Take Me
by Blackrose0127
Summary: Alfred wants to decide who to lose his virginity to. Could be considered shota if you squint. One-shot.


Five o'clock. Arthur is sitting in the red, leather armchair in his study while leisurely drinking a cup of his sacred Earl Grey. This is per usual, his daily routine. He lifts his cup to take a sip, but a knock at the door stops his teacup just short of his lips. His expression turns flustered, "Yes?" A newly independent America steps into the small room.

"Heya, Artie. How ya doin'?" Alfred stands there, wearing everyday colonial attire. They look newly pressed and cleaned. Arthur felt sadness and anger bubbling in the pit of his stomach. Alfred said he wouldn't come back, that he didn't need Arthur anymore. Why was he here?

"Hello Alfred, how is your independence treating you?" Arthur set his cup of tea onto the saucer on the table. Crossing his legs, he rests his hands, clasped, on top of his knee. The least he could do was be cordial, like a gentleman. Alfred fidgets in his spot, shuffling his feet and rubbing the back of his neck. His mouth opens and closes like an out of water fish. Finally, he speaks.

"Fine. Can I ask you somethin'?" His eyes practically burn a hole into the maroon carpet with his intense stare. Arthur is appalled. This is America, Alfred, the boy who fought for his freedom and won against the British Empire, and he is standing here, nervous. Granted, it has been a few years, but that doesn't mean Alfred has changed in the slightest. Arthur gestures a hand to the nearest chair. Alfred shuffles quickly over to it to sit.

"I don't understand what you need to ask me. You did just elect your first president, why don't you ask him your questions?" Arthur wants to know why is here, on a random weekday.

"That's the problem." Alfred looks up into the confused eyes of his former caretaker, his father figure. He then sighs, knowing that Arthur will want to know more. "I heard that I need to be…united with my president. I'm not sure I really want to." He starts fidgeting with his hands and ultimately shoves them between his knees. He looks up to see Arthur's reaction. Arthur has his hand rested on his chin, thinking. The silence is piercing.

"What do you suppose I do to help you, Alfred?" Arthur's firm voice tears through the silence like a jagged knife. Alfred jumps in surprise to the sudden statement.

"I dunno. You're the only person I thought about talkin' to." His expression looks frustrated, like this was very conflicting to him.

"Well, I could ask Francis to take you first, so it is more or less comfortable when you unite with your president." Those words taste bitter coming out of his mouth. The very thought of France touching America in any way left Arthur feeling angry. Alfred grimaces at the thought of losing his virginity to France. It's not like he didn't like France, he would just leave the screwing to his brother. The look he gave Arthur read 'Please, don't', and after reading that look, Arthur really didn't know what to do. "Alfred, I honestly don't know what you want me to do about this." Arthur massages his temples and closes his eyes. Why did America always have to come to his home like this?

"I have an idea." Arthur looks at his former charge. Alfred wore a slight blush on his face, his eyes sparkling. Arthur decides not to look into his expression so seriously. It could mean anything right? "Maybe you could take me instead." Alfred rises from his chair, walking over to Arthur. He places his hands on the opposite chair arms, his face mere centimeters from Arthur's. Arthur can feel the heat radiating from the younger male, their breaths mingling together. He felt Alfred lean closer, but abruptly turns his head from a kiss.

"Alfred, this isn't right. I-we can't do this." Arthur's voice barely above a whisper.

"I don't want my president or France to take my virginity," He gently turns Arthur's face to look into his eyes, his eyes reading a look of confusion, denial, and wanting, "I want you to do it." With that, he captures Arthur's lips with his own, clumsily snaking his tongue past Arthur's lips. Normally, such a sloppy kiss would amount to a turn-off, but Arthur thought it was cute how hard he was trying. He pulls away, a thin string of saliva connecting their lips together.

"Alfred, you're too young. This is wrong." Alfred lifts himself onto Arthur's lap, straddling his waist firmly.

"Arthur," Alfred kisses sloppily along his jaw "I have the body of a fourteen year old, but we both know how old I am." He kisses along Arthur's neck, stopping to nip and suck in random places. His work is uncoordinated, but Arthur felt a bubbling feeling developing in the pit of his stomach anyway. This isn't right. This is his little brother, the boy he raised. This is like sleeping with your own child. However, Arthur can't excuse the fact that Alfred came to _him_ for this. Alfred, America, newly independent nation decided he wanted to give his virginity to Arthur. Just thinking about this made Arthur become a little teary eyed. Alfred notices this. He clenches his legs a bit tighter. They gaze into each other's eyes; Arthur's glazed over with tears, Alfred's clouded with lust.

"Alfred, if we do this, there is no going back." Arthur gently clutches Alfred's chin. Another silence grips at the tension.

"I know."

Skin collides, sweat mixes with sweat. Hot kisses, experienced or otherwise, ignite all the pieces of flesh it touches. No spoken words; just soft mewls and gasps for air. Gentle fingers caress the dips and shapes of fresh wounds. Minutes pass; the air becoming humid and heavy. Mewls morph into groans of pleasure and reassuring words. The pooling heat and tension build inside the two lovers, being broken at the end of climax. The sound of panting reverberates through the room. Arthur lies next to his former charge, living in the aftermath of passion. Alfred snuggles up to Arthur, the darkness of sleep lazily enclosing him. Arthur wraps his arm around him. Their breathing evens out, and before Arthur closes his eyes…

"Hey Artie?" He hears Alfred's tired voice.

"Yes Alfred?" He pulls Alfred closer.

"Thank you."

**A/N: *Sigh* I know, crappy ending. I decided on his body being physically fourteen, considering in actuality his body is physically nineteen. If you were also wondering why Arthur said a few years passed, it's because America gained independence in 1776, then George Washington was elected in 1789. Review please; flames shall be used for making smores. Constructive criticism is accepted(:**


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